


What is this feeling?

by iyuuu



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternative Universe - Wicked, Attempt at Humor, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Metafiction, OOCness all around for this to work, The plot is resumed at the summary, attempt at plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29886510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iyuuu/pseuds/iyuuu
Summary: Edelgard and Hilda barely know each other, but already feel strongly something they can't quite describe. It is a feeling so strong and new they felt the moment they laid eyes on the other...And while they're out there trying to understand it, Edelgard finds out that something bad is happening in Fódlan and that no good deed goes unpunished, Hilda realizes she is not the center of the universe and neither of the reverse harém, and Byleth lands in Fódlan looking for her brother and is tasked with leading the March of Witch Hunters to melt the Wicked Witch of Enbarr with a bunch of misfits on her tail much like her favorite childhood book, except she's got a sword.A.K.A Edelgard and Hilda are perfect to put into a Wicked AU in place of Elphaba and Glinda, how did it take me this long to realize?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Edelgard von Hresvelg & Lysithea von Ordelia, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	What is this feeling?

**Author's Note:**

> It started as a simple crackfic as a parody for the song "What is this feeling?" from Wicked the Musical, in which the feeling they try to describe can be confused for love, and Edelgard and Hilda are perfect for the love-hate context. 
> 
> Disclaimer: there are phrases completely taken from the musical's songs, and they don't belong to me; please don't tell on me for copyright infringement. And although it might sound as such sometimes, this is most definitely not a song-fic! These were buried in the past with my teenage years. Buuut if you read those parts as if they were singing, well, then you got the vibe. 
> 
> P.S.: Be aware of the "attempt at humor" tag. I can't promise much.

From the hazy window of her carriage, Hilda watched the fortified walls of Garreg Mach as she approached the end (beginning?) of her tiring journey. A mix of excitement and pure dread, which were present since the day she got accepted at the University, turned into a convoluted stomachache. As much as the dream it was to simply bask at the glory of the most prestigious institution of Fódlan (besides the Church, intertwined with its university to the point both were basically the same and all that stuff), her time there was no longer destined to enjoying the best years of her life.

Oh, how she fantasized about the hedonic bliss, the pointless daily existence, the uncommitted relationships to be forged and thrown away, the expectedly unexpected parties at daylight… She could go on. Youth at its best, fortunately in a place leaking of other hormonal and previously secluded old teenagers and young adults, albeit at the most prude environment ever (which only added the extra spice of excitement, if you asked her). Still, her purely unholy intentions should be left on-hold for an undetermined time.

And it was all Holst’s fault.

“You have to understand, Hilda. The future of our family depends on you,” he whined since they received her letter of approval. “You have to prevail where I failed. If the Archbishop recognizes officially your crest, we’ll be allowed to have Freikugel back. Believe me when I say we need it to keep on protecting Fódlan’s Throat. Almyrans are getting fiercer by the day.”

Therefore, instead of doing whatever she felt like, including nothing, Hilda Valentine Goneril was tasked with a gigantic boulder on her shoulders. Accomplish what her brother couldn’t: was that even possible? Holst, the great Alliance general; the strong, reliable, confident heir of the Goneril’s everlasting burden; and, last but not least, her loving big brother. Hilda was so sure her stars wrote a different path to her, away from the gruesome way of life of battling and killing and staying paranoid with the prospect of new attackers at any moment. Thanks to her capable brother, her destiny could be written from blank paper. Even if it meant to be a useless spoiled noble who wouldn’t lift a finger if it wasn’t terribly necessary for her survival and screw the rest.

And such perspective is precisely what used to make her a tad less frustrated with the absurdly high standards stupid Holst set up for her since day one.

But another curse of the Goneril state got into her way: Holst had zero magical talent. None. Nothing at all. That being so, even the remarkable honor student he was didn’t get the chance to have his crest tested. Without royal blood, one could achieve the test only by showing their prowess on magic. And with the arrival of the Goddess’s avatar a decade ago, the Hero’s Relics have been confiscated by the Church, only to be given back at the condition of a good reason and compatible crest running inside the heir of the correspondent Hero’s ancestors. They had the good reason of, you know, being the lifelong protectors of the borders with the most troublesome neighbor nation _ever_ ; yet, that alone didn’t shake the Archbishop’s take on the matter: no regal blood nor magic twirl, no testing for thou still.

Even if they could feel their crest working. Even if most crests, including the one Hilda shared with her brother by fateful luck (or bad luck, she didn’t know anymore), had nothing to do with magic, the rule was cardinal.

Hence, against all her plans of graceful uselessness, Hilda became their family’s last hope.

Great, she _loved_ high expectations thrust upon her! And having Holst as a touchstone? Absolutely awesome. Should we also remember the handicap that not only she wasn’t as multitalented as Holst to compensate for any faults, but also that she held no more magical talent than her brother?

“How am I supposed to do that? I can’t even cast a fire spell for my life’s sake!” The girl tried some movements with her hand to make her point.

Holst showed his billion-watt dashing smile. “You have time until you have to go there. Use it to study! Ask help from some of the other Alliance kids, I dunno! You’re our last hope, my sister. Go make us proud!”

He patted her shoulder and left the living room laughing. If Hilda didn’t know him any better, she could swear it was a burst of mocking laughter. It would be easier if it were; then doing the opposite of what he was asking of her in spite would be easy and pleasurable. But it was a goddessmned hopeful mirth.

Oh, the stomachache.

Although she didn’t go down without complaining, Hilda ended up ceding to his pleas and tried studying magic. She got as far as inviting the Count Gloucester’s buffoon of a son with his funny hair to tea to make him teach something that would make her go forward from square one. Fortuitously, Lorenz either was a great fan of or had the hots for Holst, maybe both, she didn’t care, and ended up dragging her lazy untalented ass to somewhere beyond nothingness.

Hilda entered the gates of Garreg Mach at least knowing how to make the wind blow in the opposite way between her hands. It was something, right?

Lorenz wasn’t amused, the impression enhanced by his resting bitch face, but he had to accept it was as far as his temporary apprentice could go in their short time. Besides, any foul word which came from his sassy little mouth could and _would_ be used against him; Hilda made this clear since the beginning. And the lean boy knew better than to get into Holst’s bad side after doing what he could to get into his good graces.

Speaking of the noble, he was easy to see from afar. That horrendous hair couldn’t be mistaken, much less the obnoxious red flower at his lapel. She might have stood out as well despite her height, for he saw her approaching before she made any sign to call for his attention.

“Good morning, Miss Hilda! Ready to make history together?” He offered his left hand in courteous reverence. It was likely what kept her from rolling her eyes at his choice of words. If anything, her weakness was a public yet inconspicuous display of adulation for her. Considering Lorenz’s raw potential for flashy actions (look at that very red rose in his lapel!!!!!), the simple gesture was a great surprise.

Hilda expected him to shout from afar three pitches higher than necessary and dance before getting to her, so, yeah, congrats Lorenz on learning discretion before their arrival! 

“You’ll be trying to get your magical wand back, right?” She questioned while he left a light kiss at the back of her hand.

“Thyrsus, yes. But Miss Hilda, it isn’t a magical wand, it is…” and she turned off her attention after that because she knew such speech already and regretted starting some small talk with someone who likes their own voice more than he should.

The short girl looked from the market entrance to the University's/Monastery's magnificent structure. The classic baroque-ish architecture that showed how old this place was also denoted its historical and present value. It transpired tradition, power, order. It made her guts twist in a different way than her most recent ordeals.

It made her feel small. You know, more than she already was.

Hilda privately decided she hated the feeling. 

* * *

When their carriage stopped after countless hours, Edelgard felt she could either kiss the Goddess’s shoes for having arrived or end up puking on such shoes. It took the best of her self-control, a doubtful prescription of a mix of herbal medicines from the Imperial doctor substitute and Hubert’s careful threats to the poor coachman each time there was great turbulence on the carriage for this trip not be a laughable disaster.

Still, they managed it somehow and Edelgard only vomited like twice per day in their three-day journey. It was a victory; she, her young sister, and her retainer could agree on that. The coachman might not have the same opinion, though.

With wobbling steps, the best she could manage at that point, the Imperial heir got down from their fancy carriage. Hubert appeared by her side on time to offer her a hand to stabilize on the ground. She breathed in and out, ignoring the buzz of multiple voices chatting around them.

“El, are you sure you’re alright?” Lysithea asked after Hubert put her in her wheelchair.

“Of course, I am.” Breath in, breath out, you can do it Edelgard. “What a question, Lys.”

She turned to the direction her sister’s voice came from, only to break the thin string that kept her from falling apart. All her caution not to anger her labyrinth gone through the sink because of her stupid big sister pride. She felt muscular arms catch her before she fell to her left, but did not have the time to analyze who it was or thank her helper, for she could only manage to walk to behind the carriage and pour out whatever there was still on her stomach.

“El!” Lysithea concerned voice trailed behind her.

“It’s alright Lys, I’m going to be fine,” she muttered between her sickness of pure drool. Her face was already drenched in a cold sweat that fell to the ground close to what she had just expelled from her body. Within a minute or two, she was almost positive the color had returned to her face and that she wouldn’t scare her sister for looking pale like her retainer.

“You didn’t even spare a glance to the boy who helped you!” Edelgard then recognized her tone was actually of excitement rather than concern. “He was so handsome, how lucky of you!”

The older sibling felt a handkerchief taping her shoulder, which she took to clean her mouth. She didn’t need to look to know it had been Hubert who offered, but the fact that such handkerchief was black with silver details gave him away even if he tried to hide. When she was surer that there would come no more vertigo to unbalance her, Edelgard looked at Lysithea. Her eyes directed to the flood of people walking through the gates of Garreg Mach, most likely still following the gentle stranger who stopped her from tripping (and consequently puking) on her own shoes.

A heavy sigh battled with the foul taste at her mouth. The obsession with boys and its likes was Lysithea’s new quirk, an advance from her wish to be and feel more girly and mature. Edelgard had no heart to deflect from the topic and shared her sparse experience to indulge the girl. She wasn’t the most ladylike, elegant, or sociable person out there, neither had her any experience in love besides dreading the future suitors she would have to deal with at some point in her life, but she was the only woman close to the girl trapped in the wheelchair. That alone was enough to put weight into her baseless words. Not to mention she understood where this need came from. Lysithea’s frailty was a cruel reminder of their curse; still, they sought normalcy as much as they could. And while Edelgard had found it among reading and preparing for her unexpected role as future Emperor, Lysithea longed for simpler stuff, the kind she should be interested in had their lives not turned upside down five years ago.

As if sensing the hesitancy of his liege, Hubert took his position behind the younger princess, ready to walk her whenever Edelgard was ready. She tested her ground once more and turned carefully to the gates in front of them. It felt like the ocean of people (actually, the ocean was a bad analogy, she was starting to get woozy just by _thinking_ of water) was even denser. To the secluded siblings, it would be a new experience. And the heir knew that Lysithea was as hopefully enthusiastic as she was awfully terrified of what would come.

Being close to her lifelong companions made it easier to control the panic attacks that threatened to bother her now that vertigo was partially gone. Why were there that many people? Wasn’t it supposed just to be the students and their respective servants? Or had other nobles brought a servant for every aspect of their lives? It was a stupid notion she wouldn’t put past most of the ones she had the displeasure of meeting, to be honest.

“Isn’t it great they opened up the fair for our welcome party?” Lysithea eyes sparkled, and Edelgard's automatic answer came as a rigid smile. Of course, they did it. Why not bring more people on a date there would come dozens of new temporary residents as well?

Although their walking speed as a trio was naturally stalled because of how fast Hubert could push the wheelchair, even if Lysithea could walk on her own again their progress would not be much better. Crossing the market at its full capacity would be the moment she shared space with more people than she thought possible, to the point Edelgard wondered how were marketers able to work at all. After 5 minutes that felt like hours, they got to the stairs that led to the real buildings of Garreg Mach. Looking at it from the ground, the structure made out of stone matched the pictures she was able to find at the palace’s library. It was clearly not new construction, but comparing to the picture it was like it had barely aged.

Any additional observations she had stored shut out. It all happened too fast for her to elaborate. What she could remember was a shout, then multiple other shouts, then Lysithea’s scream. Before Edelgard could ponder about her alternatives, her body moved like a rehearsed dance to activate the powerful Crest running in her blood. Time stopped on its tracks, and she tried not to think about how she messed up even before officially starting at the university. Luckily, she had an important distraction in the form of a running horse in the middle of the crowd almost barging into a tent. Because of her sister’s reaction, she was sure it was coming in their direction; but if it kept the pace, it wouldn’t come close enough to them to care. In other words, she doomed herself for the sake of saving her sister but the young girl wouldn’t suffer damage at all. Superb.

What could save her skin would be doing nothing at all and let fate run its own course. You know, she wasn’t obliged to meddle into every problem she witnessed. And yes, the horse would get hurt, and maybe the tent’s owner and some unfortunate passersby, yet that’s life. However, Lysithea would know she had stopped time and would likely get disappointed in Edelgard’s lack of attitude, wouldn’t she?

Feeling her spell coming to an end and no easy solution for the dilemma in front of her, Edelgard mounted the wild black animal hoping her horseback classes from a decade ago would be of use.

They were, but also, they weren’t.

Positive point was that pulling the horse’s reins in a clumsy attempt of mending the disaster gave the people of the stall time to get out of the way from the mad animal. Negative point was that, as a side-effect from her power, crestless fellows would mostly remember the scene in a very different way. Oh, and also her vertigo came back.

Edelgard fell from her makeshift ride into the tent’s goods. When she sat up from her new position inside a broken wooden box of apples, the platinum-haired girl saw that what finally stopped the horse from causing more harm was a combination of Hubert and Lysithea conjuring magical ropes to hold its neck and a pink-haired girl… raising her hands to the horse with her eyes closed? What was that supposed to be?

Apparently, it didn’t matter, for the trio was able to appease the beast. Edelgard was not surprised with the resonant clapping they received for their efforts. She got to her feet ignoring the pointed stares she received from unhappy people she presumed to be the owners of the small stall of fruits. Her back and her ego hurt; however, they were the price of her carelessness.

“Lady Edelgard, are you alright?” Hubert came to her aid after dodging the grateful peasants. He hovered over her as usual, and the lack of response from his liege made him start his healing spell. The confirmation came as a slow turn to show her bruised back. “Your dress is… torn. We should change it promptly.”

She sighed. “Our luggage is already going to the dorms. I have no spare with me. Unless you have it.”

“Sadly, it’s not the case,” he frowned and held his chin with his right hand, failing to grasp the Princess’s bitter sarcasm. “Apologies, milady. I’ll make sure to not make such mistake henceforth.”

“El! Are you hurt?” This time, Lysithea was genuinely concerned, but it wasn’t enough to warm her heart as usual, nor to compensate her losses with the episode.

Edelgard lifted her right hand to her face and pressed her eyes with her fingers. She didn’t want her sister and retainer (and curious onlookers) to see them forming tears. All she needed was some seconds to control it. She heard Hubert talking to a man after tending to her back, likely to pay for the damages he attributed to the Imperial princess’s “lack of control over her horse”. It was the approach they got accustomed to using after countless failures in convincing people the scene was not like they remember it to be. Money resolved most of the problems in that regard, and no matter how decadent the Empire had become to the continent’s eyes, gold wasn’t a problem to them. Not yet.

“Everything is settled. What do you wish to do with your back, my lady?”

Oh yeah, there was also this problem. The tear wasn’t great to the point of indecency, but enough to show the other reason for her unending shame in life. Yet, Edelgard felt numb. It didn’t matter anymore, did it? The information was already traveling through the merchants and students. She could almost grasp in the air the whispers all over the fair. Hiding it would stir their curiosity and leave room for counterproductive gossip. That’s how nobles and wannabe nobles worked.

“Let’s just go,” she muttered meekly and started walking, ignoring her feeling of exposure the best she could.

Her Uncle was right. They should never have left Enbarr.

* * *

Hilda could say things started conveniently, and she was glad about it.

It was weird to see the platinum-haired pale girl away from the horse, then suddenly above it to ditch it from other people, then the horse knocking her down with a furious gallop and trotting still furious to _her_ direction. In her desperation, Hilda did the first thing that came to her mind, which for some odd reason was the lame wind magic she learned with Lorenz. The horse stopped on its tracks, although clearly restless. For a second, Hilda thought her magic did the… you know, magic, but she saw a creepy-looking tall man and another platinum-haired girl, but this time in a wheelchair, with purple magic ropes holding the animal by its neck.

The Alliance girl knew she had zero participation, or like 1% at most, on the ruckus’s solution; nonetheless, people started clapping, some students complimented her on her apparent feat, and Hilda realized she was living her greatest dream: receiving praise for something she barely had made the effort.

“It was very brave of you, and you didn’t hurt the horse,” Marianne von Edmund, the only other noble girl from the Alliance besides Hilda and her future roommate, showed her appraisal.

Feeling like she was walking on the clouds, Hilda didn’t complain about stuff that bored her to death, like waiting in the registration line to receive her papers, listening to Lorenz talking (partially about her this time, so it was like music to her ears despite his irritating voice) and standing in a crowd with someone speaking on a podium. Her broad smile started to fade, however, when Lorenz pointed out a very important topic.

“Miss Hilda, aren’t you on any magical program?” He glanced down to her documents to check again his suspicion. “Mine has got the introduction module already.”

“What?”

She finally took the courage to read the grid with her disciplines, and there was nothing like magic on them. Hilda pulled Lorenz’s papers from his hand, only to find quickly the magic classes labeled as “Introduction to magic for nobles”.

“How come? I have a crest! Shouldn’t I be signed on it automatically since the start?”

Lorenz’s eyebrows shot up. “No, you were supposed to state on your letter of interest. Your curriculum is based on that. Didn’t your brother warn you when you wrote yours?”

The sweat on her neck started to get cold. Actually, Hilda sent the letter without him knowing, for she was sure he would meddle with its contents and make her end up in insufferable classes. But she was _pretty_ sure she wrote the part about her family crest. And after she announced the letter was already on its way to his alma mater, Holst brought up the importance of having her crest tested but never mentioned _asking_ for magical classes at the University. All he bothered her with was learning a bit of magic _before_ getting there. 

She was certain he didn’t even know about it. Still, he had the nerve of throwing the responsibility at her? Oh, he would listen a lot from her!

At the front of the group of first-year students (collectively bewildered all of sudden, people are weird), Hilda saw a man who fit the description her brother made of Seteth, the vice-headmaster and directly responsible for educational matters. Tall, green-haired with a matching chin-curtain beard and stern-looking; there was no one who would resemble such words more than the one looking at them. She used the murmur-tinged silence that followed Seteth speaking about something she didn’t catch to raise her hand and ask if there could be any changes to their programming.

Nevertheless, she had not a chance to ask. Hilda watched heads turning in her direction, bewilderment turning to surprise at the faces of her fellow students. Murmurs that were supposed to be discreet, but they were definitely not, started again, louder. Looking back to the green-haired man, he had a soft, content smile.

“Miss Goneril, isn’t it? Of course, we heard of your participation out there as well. It’s great to know a kind heart follows such a spontaneous act. Thank you for offering to share rooms with the Princess.” His smile broadened and he crossed his arms, somehow approvingly. “This exactly what we expect from all of you. Selflessness, always achieving for the greater good, excellence. You all should take Lady von Hresvelg’s and Miss Goneril’s actions as examples.”

Her brows frowned. What did he mean, sharing room with whom? Selflessness, was it something you can eat? Greater good? Example?

The platinum-haired girl from before glanced at him with a face similar to what Hilda perceived her own to be. And it looked like she also noticed her because soon they were staring at each other with horror on their faces.

“What?”

* * *

The Imperial party of three stood at the side of the deputy headmaster’s podium, to run from the flock of freshmen’s suffocating and excessive human heat. Both sisters were sensitive to it, Edelgard was overloaded with all that has come to pass briefly before, and their low stature made it difficult to see anything among a crowd.

The man who presented himself to them as Seteth seemed to wait until the murmur between the new students were close to naught to start speaking. However, he was barely at the first welcoming words when a collective “wooo” left the students’ mouths.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your speech, Seteth. But I had to come.” A tall, green-haired woman in a long, regalia dress apologized as she put her hand on one of his shoulders. Any hint of displeasure for being interrupted vanished from his face and he nodded curtly. She descended the podium with elegance, and when the gentle-looking woman turned to their side, Edelgard prepared herself for an undeserving scolding like she always received. Instead, the woman’s small smile got brighter as she approached.

“Lady Edelgard von Hresvelg, Princess of Adestria and Imperial heir, am I correct?” She confirmed with a curt nod and hands closed on fists. “We were already expecting you and your sister, Lady Lysithea, with great pleasure and expectations. However, I couldn’t imagine there was more, much more to you than we imagined!”

Yeah, here it came, even if she spoke as a doting mother, there was no way this wasn’t a scolding coming.

“To think you were this blessed! The Emperor never mentioned this much on his correspondence!” She clapped her palms once in front of her chest in joy, a smile reaching her eyes almost in a predatory manner.

Okay, Edelgard was getting confused.

“Not only that, but also that you humbly accept the raw reality of incomprehension. I can only imagine how many times have you been mistaken for a wrongdoer or not given the due credit for your deeds. Many would have fallen to self-centric pride in your place. But you don’t, do you? 

“Oh, many years I have waited, for a gift like yours to appear! Well, I predict the Goddess will be pleased to meet such sanctified young woman and make your power flourish. You have a great future ahead of you, Lady Edelgard.”

The woman spoke with almost a religious fervor. Each step she made forward to praise the girl, Edelgard took one smaller backward, feeling trapped with each word she proffered.

“What do you mean?” She tried modestly after gulping, and her answer began as an expectant glint in her eyes.

“Your power, my child, such power is akin to the Goddess’s. If you work as you should, you’ll be making good.”

Edelgard brooded with her affirmation. Had that really just happened? Had she actually understood? That weird, inconvenient quirk she tried to suppress or hide was a talent that could help her meet the Goddess? Not only that, it was “akin to the Goddess’s”? She looked at her scarred hands, red from her nails digging into her skin, trying to internalize such information.

To meet the Goddess was one of her wildest dreams. Edelgard’s hope was that within Her there was the answer to all her questions and pleads, to calm her relentless heart. Since the first day she saw her and Lysithea’s new hair color and her now sole sister had to be put into a wheelchair, she longed to understand the curse and blessing they were bestowed upon. And to think an err of calculation from her part would actually lead to this…! Was luck siding with her, after so long?

“Oh, I wish we could have prepared better for you! Your father’s recent letter only asked that Lady Lysithea quarters were close to the infirmary. We arranged that she and her retainer were accommodated as he desired. As sudden as it was, we had no time to arrange for a more suitable place for you, besides the twin room you were supposed to share.”

The green-haired woman worried her lip in distress, turning to the deputy headmaster. “How was it decided to fill the gap? Did you see on that matter?”

Seteth didn’t even blink when answering. “Of course, Lady Rhea. As expected, we don’t have the physical space to spare a room only for her at the girl’s dorms. The Emperor’s request came in perfect time to allow us to work on our true capacity, by taking the younger at the retainer out of our sum.” He turned back to the students, who watched the private interaction between the Imperial party and the faculty. “We were planned to have Manuela resolve this among the girls, but I believe it fits this initial presentation about what Garreg Mach represents and yearns from our students.”

The now-somewhat-introduced Archbishop smiled delightedly. She left the precinct as fast as she popped, after saying she would talk to the Imperial princesses later.

With the distraction gone, Seteth rested his hands behind his back and gazed upon their new pupils with determination.

“Many of you have come here already with the notion of who would your roommates be. However, in the case of the girls, we received a number of approved applications superior to our number of beds. It would be necessary for a group of girls to occupy a room at the boy’s side of the dorm, which would be an uncomfortable arrangement for both students and the Church. However, in face of recent developments, we will be able to keep everyone at their respective side.

“But for this to work, we need someone to share rooms with Lady Edelgard von Hresvelg instead of her sister, who will be accommodated in a private room elsewhere. I’d like to know if we have any volunteers to change rooms, so we don’t have to choose ourselves and cause… unnecessary friction.”

As fortunate as it was that she could meet the Goddess at some point, her survival-instinct was turned on from the moment the Archbishop mentioned her separation from her sister. A crescent buzz filled the great hall, and Edelgard couldn’t help but notice the tone mostly heard was of indignation. She shared the feeling as well, for she felt the same for her father’s action.

“Did you know of it? Asking to put Lysithea in another room?” She didn’t turn to Hubert but knew he was right beside her listening.

“Absolutely not, Lady Edelgard. It caught me by surprise as well. But…” he drifted as if pondering if he should speak any further. With a simple nod from his liege, he went on. “If I may be as bold, I have a suspicion where such idea came from. Or rather… From _whom_ it came.”

Edelgard gritted her teeth. There was only one person who would receive such venomous yet careful accusation from Hubert.

“Why do you think he would do that?”

“I am yet to comprehend the true motivation behind his very actions.”

The princess wanted to argue more, but the collective motion to look at the rear side of the crowd of people, where there was a solitary raised hand, hooked her as well. Squinting to take a better glance at who offered themselves to share the bedroom with her, Edelgard felt cold at the pit of her stomach when she caught the sight of pink hair.

Anyone, anyone but her! 

She turned to Seteth, wondering if there was something, anything she could do to avoid such a predicament. However, the deputy headmaster rejoiced the apparent volunteer, much to her dismay.

Silently, she decided to ask the Goddess in the future if they really met whether there was a reason for her tribulations, or if it was just a big joke on her.

* * *

Although both short girls walked part of their way to their shared room together, sluggish steps alike as if in denial, neither made the effort to look at the other. Hilda was still processing the dots in her life connected to end up in such a situation, but thinking about was making her mad. Almost being-her-family’s-last-hope mad, still not quite there yet.

Edelgard took the initiative to open the room. Her luggage was already positioned by the bed at the right side of the twin room, defining the division without them needing to talk. At least some solace in her misery.

Hilda strolled to her apparent side of the dorm, void of her belongings. Seteth made it clear he would work so that there was the proper transfer of her stuff from her original room in a few hours at best. She didn’t understand why it could take that long. It was just luggage. Ok, maybe she had a bit too much, still…

She stared at her new bed and sat on it to test it, only to conclude it was indeed as she feared: bland, small, cold, and hard, much like her roommate. The Alliance girl grimaced at her silent companion, unpacking her possessions with almost mechanical movements. It was all Lorenz’s fault. Had he not pointed at that moment the lacking detail at her program, she would not have raised her hand precisely when the grumpy green-haired man asked for a volunteer. Or rather, it was Holst’s fault, and his stupid expectations, and his stupid lack of notion. Would it be too bad to just ignore his wishes and do as she pleases? Hilda was tempted to.

She noticed the princess opened a drawer at her desk to find a letter paper and a quill. When she sat and organized the table to start to write, Hilda noticed the scars on her back (her torn beige dress made them very noticeable) and she wondered why hadn’t the other girl changed clothes already. To think someone would walk around like that… What a lack of social awareness! Anyways, at least the other girl served for providing with an idea to pass her time: writing a very petulant letter to her brother.

Hilda did the same as the princess as she prepared to write the letter, but before she could start complaining without even greeting her brother, she reconsidered. Holst always thought of family in the end. He asked of her such a task because he couldn’t do it himself. She really couldn’t do that to him, could she? But also, for now, she couldn’t find her way to magical classes. Would it break his heart to know she couldn’t for a lack of knowledge from both of them?

Therefore, Hilda Valentine Goneril decided not to dwell on the topic with him. She had time to discover how to get into the magic program and have her crest tested. At least, she hoped. And concealing isn’t lying, wasn’t she right? What Holst canst know, he wonst. 

_My dearest and greatest brother Holst,_

What should she write about, then? He precisely asked for her to write as soon as she arrived, but knowing that human stuffed bear that was her brother, she was sure Holst would not be satisfied with her saying that a five-day trip was boring and that she was tired. It was how she usually described most of her days, anyways. The noise made by the other room’s occupant writing once again gave her the perfect topic, though.

_There’s been some confusion over rooming here at Garreg Mach. But of course, I’ll rise above it, for I know that’s how you’d want me to respond. There’s been some confusion for you see my roommate is…_

She turned to look at the Princess. A great platinum hair in an amateur side-ponytail, a back full of scars, a terrible taste for dresses, a strange power she still couldn’t comprehend, the Archbishop’s favorite student since day one… She wanted to write like this to complain, but once again, Holst could be the worst on reprimanding her because of her judgmental nature. She sighed before going on.

_Unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe; instead of peaceful, calm, and cute Marianne and a redhead commoner from the Alliance._

She then described the horse event, how she ‘helped’ calm the animal down (he would surely be proud of her achievement!) and that everything else was going just fine. She would write again once there was more to tell. Hilda lifted the paper to read again how she tried and failed to describe Edelgard von Hresvelg and her forehead creased.

There was something about the other girl that stirred her. Maybe it was her natural talent for magic. Maybe it was how she looks down to everyone as if she was superior, with tired lilac eyes. Maybe because they’re the exact opposite from each other, from what she heard about the Archbishop’s words. Maybe for the hideous dresses she took out of her luggage and the torn one she insisted on _not_ changing. But pondering the reasons didn’t help her describe how she felt regarding her. There was a feeling, so sudden and new that made her pulse rush and her face slightly flush, fervid as a flame.

Hilda felt she had the name at the tip of her tongue, but couldn’t quite say it.

It could be she was thinking too much, and she wasn’t used to it.

It was probably due to the dresses anyway.

* * *

Pretending to have control is a great way to actually gain it, and Edelgard learned it sooner than she would have liked. There was no mystery as to why Miss Goneril wasn’t rejoiced to be her roommate – heck, not even herself would have wanted that –, and the utter annoyance stamped in her face was a bit too glaring. Was Seteth playing blind to this fact to serve the University's needs, or was he actually that clueless? Seeing that the situation was beyond her reach, the Imperial heir accepted what she got and played her part.

Between all her hesitation to leave their palace and very comfortable life behind for the sake of getting higher education, what made her stand her ground was the certainty she would be beside Lys and Hubert all the way _._ And without as much steading her, Edelgard felt she would drop to the ground at any moment.

Hilda's bored glare would likely be the last push to make her fall.

She could understand the anger, for it was clearly a mix-up. As well as she planned to share a room with her sister, the Alliance girl must have had her own schedule. Yet, while Edelgard could only watch her next years being decided in front of her with no voice on the matter, dazed with her exchange with the Archbishop, it was the pink-haired girl who raised her hand in the end. It didn’t matter whether it was by mistake; if anyone could be pointed as guilty, excluding the sneaky letter which started the spiral, it was Hilda something Goneril (Faerghus’ and some Alliance’s nobles loved middle names, so she was sure Hilda had one, and it was probably tacky) for not paying attention. Therefore, she could get mad as she wanted, but blaming Edelgard wasn’t something the latter would swallow for much longer.

She sat by the desk to collect her thoughts and still the new wave of vertigo that attacked once again. The rollercoaster of emotions definitely would make no good for her head, and when her head wasn’t good, neither was her stomach. Edelgard would’ve bet nothing could overcome the joy of being accredited worth to meet the Goddess, but the prospect of not being within an arm's reach from her sister and retainer was horrifying. She felt almost naked. However, she should not show how shaken it left her. Especially not to Hilda something Goneril.

Edelgard opened her suitcases and arranged most of her clothes into the closet. She was a princess, but never too fond of opulent belongings. She had enough to make it through, no extravagance. Then, organizing took less time than she predicted, which made her look inside her desk drawer. Rejoiced to find a paper and a quill, Edelgard started a letter she needed to get out of her system.

_My dear father,_

_Although I cannot say our trip and arrival were uneventful, I believe we have everything under control at the moment. We were startled when hearing you requested directly to the Archbishop that Lysithea should stay close to the infirmary. I don’t condemn your concern and understand it very well, but Hubert and I could not help but get surprised for not having heard of it before. It sounds like they also received this instruction on short notice, and there’s been some confusion over rooming here. But of course, even apart I will care for Lys, for I know it’s how you want me to respond._

_I say there was some confusion for, you see, my roommate is…_

She had no words to describe Hilda yet. There was a silent clash whenever they looked at each other, and Edelgard could not accept how she was attributed most of the glory after all the Imperial trio’s work and didn’t try to correct it.

_… a pink-haired girl from the Alliance, I believe that Holst Goneril’s young sister._

Seeing she had nothing to add to the letter, Edelgard decided to continue it later when her head wasn’t fuming and preferably her roommate wasn’t glaring daggers in her direction. She turned and got the other girl red-handed and very pink-eyed in her direction.

Hilda flinched but didn’t stop looking at her. “What?” She had the nerve to ask!

“That’s what I ask you. You have been staring at me for some time.” Her voice was controlled, but her insides were not as peaceful. What was this feeling, so sudden and new? She felt it the moment she laid eyes on her and every subsequent moment they had to share. Edelgard could feel her head reeling and not the way it did these past days. Does it have a name? There was, but what was it again?

“Can you blame me? Look at your dress!”

As reflect, she contemplated her cream-colored garment. It wasn’t the most fashionable, but it wasn’t enough to make someone as disgusted as Hilda made it look. She was going to counter it, however, there was a knock at their – ugh, _their_ – door. Without turning off the grossed-out face, the pink-haired girl got up to answer it.

* * *

The sigh that left Hilda’s mouth was both delighted and exasperated when she met the sight of her luggage in front of their room. Among the numerous packing, there was a young boy with tanned skin looking at her with curious red eyes.

“I’m here to deliver those to Miss Hilda,” he spoke less certain than he looked.

Glee took her annoyance’s place as she moved so he could bring her stuff inside. “Finally!”

Albeit with no strong-looking body, the boy managed to take her heavy-looking luggage and put them beside her bed without breaking a sweat. When he was over, in less than a minute, he stood at the door looking at Hilda, expectantly. She frowned when he didn’t open his mouth to speak, keeping on staring at her instead.

“Do you need, ugh, anything else?” She uncomfortably asked, moving the door some millimeters towards him to make the boy take a cue.

He blinked, unfazed. “I’m Cyril,” there was an earnest glint at his glance which spooked her.

With no better retort and a primal need to finish this awkward talk she didn’t want to be in, all she could say back was “I’m Hilda.”

“I know,” he replied with a slight frown.

“Great! Bye then!”

And she closed the door with a saccharine smile, getting rid of one more unwanted creepy person within her personal space. The other one she, unfortunately, could not make go away with such ease.

“The least you should have done was to thank the boy,” the Imperial bore stood up with an unamused face and crossed her arms. “Not to mention you could have helped him.”

Was there any magic to make this person simply disappear?

“Why would I? It’s his job!”

“And because of that, you couldn’t muster a simple ‘thank you’ instead of ‘I’m Hilda’?” Edelgard made a horrible imitation of her voice. She was getting angrier by the second, her visible throbbing vein made it very clear. Which was very, very gross.

“Don’t make it sound I’m some kind of monster! I was clearly talking just about the part where you wanted me to sweat lifting this baggage up!” She tried doing it with her left hand to dramatize her point, but the ease with which she did it wouldn’t help her point. Damn the stupid superb muscular structure that ran in the family close to magic incompetence.

Fortuitously, the princess didn’t seem to notice amongst her own words. “It doesn’t change the fact you didn’t recognize his effort. It doesn’t matter that it’s his job; you should be grateful anyway. It’s the minimum social tact someone in your position should have.”

Were throbbing veins contagious? Hilda was sure she never had something like it but now she could feel one at the left side of her face as well.

She made a furious step forward, stomping and pointing to Edelgard’s face. “I’m not receiving a lecture from someone whose _social tact_ isn’t enough to change a torn dress as soon as possible!”

Edelgard touched her exposed back with full blushing rising to her cheeks in embarrassment. Had she really forgotten about it? And she still had the courage to reprimand Hilda as if she was some child!

The girl opened and closed her mouth a few times before getting her voice through it. “This was just… a special situation,” the way the princess’s voice deflated to counter made a pink eyebrow raise. Hilda crossed her arms and couldn’t control the anticipatory triumph in her smile before lashing out her final attack.

“Oh yeah? I’m glad to know I won’t be seeing it every day. What would people think when they realized I had a fetishist for a roommate?”

When the princess froze and her blush turned into a dark red, Hilda became sure she had won the argument. “A fet-? H-how dare you?!”

Usually, it would’ve made her plenty satisfied. Nothing better than winning a discussion with someone who clearly wasn’t used to lose. Hilda wondered how was Lorenz still so courteous with her without her brother around because she trampled on him pretty badly more than once. Remembering his stupid face contort was a delight, yet seeing Edelgard overwhelmed and incapable of forming a rebuke wasn’t as fulfilling as she expected. Weird.

After silently glaring, Edelgard crossed her arms as well and lifted her face, even with embarrassment still shining in her features. “You’re Holst Goneril’s sister, right? I was wondering if you were anything like him after hearing your name.”

Hilda gulped and paled. Of all things the other girl could come up with when she found her voice back, Edelgard had to get into _this_ topic. ­

“As far as the physical resemblance goes; I can see him on you. Your body’s building, the round face, the… peculiar cotton-candy hair. Yet, that’s where your similarity ends.”

Her scowl deepened and lilac eyes worsened the cold storm they brought to Hilda’s back. “I met him once. He was an honorable, humble, and well-intentioned man.” The Alliance girl would’ve replied she cannot change not being a man, if she didn’t know it would only show how exposed she was feeling. And Edelgard would absolutely not know it. “Everything you won’t ever be. Who says the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree never met you, a spoiled brat who tinges the legacy crafted carefully by your ancestors.”

There it came again, that feeling. Her pulse rushing, her face flushing. Stronger, deeper, it contorted her very core. What was it again?

“You… don’t even know me!” She angrily whispered.

With an acid taste to her mouth, Hilda felt she was very close to the feeling’s name.

It came as a click of recognition. “I remembered!” She exclaimed rejoiced with her mind finally finding the word. Pointing to the other girl’s face, she finally shouted “Loathing!”

Edelgard’s eyes widened in confusion and her moral armor cracked. “What?”

“What you make me feel, honey.” Hilda was back to the game, Edelgard’s reddening face once again showing when she scored.

The princess grimaced and pointed to the lazy noble as well. Two could play this game. “Unadulterated loathing!”

“For your face!”

“Your voice!”

“Your clothing!”

“Let’s just say, I loathe it all!” Both yelled. Without tearing the eyes from each other, as if who did it first would lose whichever battle they were on about, each made a step forward.

“Every little trait, however small-“

“Makes my very flesh begin to crawl!”

“Those are my words! With simple, utter loathing…!”

There was a strange exhilaration in such total detestation that was so pure, so strong. Neither girl could pinpoint ever having felt this intensely regarding anybody.

“Though I do admit it came on fast-”

“Still I do believe that it can last. And I will be loathing you for forever-”

“Loathing, truly, deeply loathing you-”

“My whole life long!”

When the altercation came to an end, the roommates were red from their labored breath.

“You stole it!” Hilda complained between gritted teeth and poking right at the middle of Edelgard’s chest. “Chose another feeling! I called it first!”

The other girl scoffed and protected herself by folding her arms. “What? Do you own feelings now?”

An uncomfortable throat-clearing sound made both girls realize not only that the door was opened, but also that they had a mini-audience, part of which was a disconcerted Hubert, an amused Lysithea, and an astonished Marianne.

If both girls were lost in how to call this friction, shame replaced it instantly. 

* * *

“Oh my goddess El, you sounded like a child!” Lysitheamanaged to say after a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry, but,” new fit of laughter, “I’ve never seen you so stirred!” A new fit of laughter.

Hubert had his lips in a thin line, apparently torn on whether he should protect his liege honor or keep quiet not to disagree with the younger princess. But when he looked to Edelgard’s contradicted face, he could not stay put. “If it is this obnoxious to share rooms with that woman, we should go to the Archbishop to try to change it again.”

Edelgard sighed in her chair. Whatever just happened between Hilda and her left her exhausted. “I don’t think it’s the solution. And I don’t want her thinking I’m picky,” she blushed slightly.

“Which would be an even more childish behavior,” Lysitheatried to suppress her smile after talking and failed.

The older sibling didn’t try to hide her grumpiness. “The Archbishop is the only person who thinks highly of me outside this room. I’d rather use this in my favor on a more urgent matter if it is ever necessary.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” Hubert interposed, ever so hesitant not to displease the Imperial sisters. “I’m afraid Lady Lysitheaisn’t thinking this highly of you right now.”

Her sister’s new fit of laughter could not be contained once again.

* * *

“Dear Hilda, you are just too good!” Lorenz proclaimed as he tried to follow her angry steps out of her menace’s bedroom, which still hadn’t stopped being hers as well. “How do you stand her? I don’t think I could!”

She never said she did.

“She’s a terror; she’s a Tartar. I don’t mean to show a bias, but Hilda you’re a martyr!”

The Alliance girl stopped stomping and looked to her improvised magic teacher with all the ire Edelgard von Hresvelg burnt onto her. Hilda thought about roasting Lorenz for dropping the “Miss” to force intimacy, but Marianne and the other girl were watching. Also, she didn’t want to show she had _no fucking idea_ what he meant by “Tartar”, but Lorenz had an ample vocabulary on speaking ill of others, so she would only assume it’s bad and Edelgard von Hresvelg deserves it.

Therefore, Hilda did what she did best: faked a smile.

“Well, these things are sent to try us,” she tried in a nonchalant tone between gritted teeth.

“But weren’t you saying how lucky she was to share her bedroom with the Imperial heir?” The redhead bluntly gave him up, and Hilda glared at the boy.

Marianne tried to intervene, taking her out of Hilda’s way to Lorenz. “Leonie! Just-”

“Poor Hilda, forced to reside with someone so disgusticified!” He went back to his praising, ignoring Leonie’s interruption and murderous pink-eyes. “We all just want to tell you: we are on your side!” He proudly smacked his chest with his fist in a weird way to show loyalty. “We share your… what was it…”

“Loathing!” Hilda exclaimed, pumped up again against Edelgard. “Unadulterated loathing!”

The redhead raised a brow. “Are you sure? What I see between you is much more like a sexual ten-” Marianne shut Leonie before apocalypse fell upon them through the very hands of Hilda Valentine Goneril. Luckily, she was entertained by Lorenz.

“Let’s just say: we loath it all!”

“Why am I supposed to loathe her, though?” Leonie quietly asked Marianne.

Hilda nodded in compliance with Lorenz’s licking of her boots. Of course, she wouldn’t let herself be shaken. She was Hilda Valentine Goneril, loved… not by everyone, and feared only by Lorenz, but she was invested in increasing this list to include a certain platinum-haired buzzkill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I discovered minutes before posting that I've been writing Lysithea name wrong for some time now

**Author's Note:**

> And that's my contribution to Hildagard's little community, I hope you're on board with me.


End file.
